


Happy Anniversary

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: But very loose plot, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 14:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie
Summary: When Tom makes you believe that he forgot your anniversary, he finds a way to make it up to you - in the bedroom.





	Happy Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a challenge by @justthehiddles over on tumblr! The dialogue prompt was: "Shut up. I don't want to hear another word from your mouth."
> 
> Enjoy!

“Stupid angel face, my ass.”

You had seen what the internet called your boyfriend, and while you usually agreed with their assessments of how lovely he was, right now they had no idea how frustrating he could be in real life.

Like when he forgot your one-year anniversary while he was halfway across the world on a press junket. You had spent the entire day, waiting for at the very least a phone call, only to get nothing in return. No text, no phone call, no delivery of a bouquet of your favorite flowers to your shared flat, no response for the treats you had arranged through Luke for him to receive. Nothing.

To say that your feelings were a little hurt was putting it mildly.

So now, with only one hour left to go before your anniversary was over, you were calling it. It wasn’t like him to forget to message you at least one time throughout his busy schedule, especially on such an important day. You crawled into the bed, the linens no longer scented with Tom’s preferred cologne, falling into a deep sleep with Bobby curled up at your feet.

It was still dark when Bobby’s barks startled you awake. You bolted upright, shoving your mussed hair out of your face. The back door creaked open and closed, and the barking stopped. Heart pounding in your chest, you reached for your phone on the nightstand.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. You froze, as if the soft golden light from the streetlamps outside that filtered in through the gauzy curtains would suddenly conceal instead of illuminating you, kneeling on the bed in your boyfriend’s worn t-shirt. When a tall, slender figure appeared in the doorway, you shrieked and threw the nearest object at him, which just happened to be a pillow. _Real threatening_.

“It’s me, sweetheart!” Tom shouted, catching the pillow you had lobbed at him, holding it and his other hand up in surrender as he stepped out of the shadows.

Settling back down on your bottom, you scowled at him, tamping down the excitement at his surprise visit. “You scared me half to death, Tom.”

He tossed the pillow onto his side of the bed, taking off his shoes to set them alongside the wall. “I was hoping to surprise you before you fell asleep, but the second flight was delayed. I’m sorry, love.”

Sticking to your guns, you leaned back against the headboard, crossing your arms over your stomach. “You didn’t text or call or anything,” you grumbled, knowing that you sounded like a whining child, but unable to stop yourself.

The faint light caught the planes of his torso as he pulled off his t-shirt, drawing your greedy eyes to him despite your frustrations. It wasn’t fair that he could be so _beautiful_ after having spent the entire day traveling. He grinned broadly, kicking off his pants as he knelt beside you on the bed. “Happy anniversary.”

“Nope.” You turned your head away from him. “I’m mad at you. I was worried.”

His hands, warm and soft, slid beneath your shirt and around your waist to pull your back into his bare chest. He pressed a lingering kiss to the soft skin just beneath your ear. “I thought the surprise would be worth it. I deeply apologize.”

You did your best to ignore him, but it was so damn _hard_ with his fingers ghosting up your sternum and over your breast to tweak your nipple _just_ right. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, giving him more room to lavish your neck with lingering kisses that shot straight down to the heat pooling between your legs. “No, you don’t get to come in here and think you’re okay just because you - oh!”

Your mouth fell open in a gasp when his other hand dipped beneath your underwear, grazing the bundle of electrified nerves he found within. His chuckle, dark and low, practically thrummed through you from where his mouth had latched onto your jaw. 

“I know you aren’t truly mad at me, sweetheart,” he murmured, dipping his deft fingers into your center. You canted your hips into him, leaning more of your weight into his firm chest as you melted with each tweak of your nipple and brush of the heel of his hand over your clit. “I am so terribly sorry for any undue stress that I caused you. It was unconsciously done. You are so beautiful, so magnificent, that the thought of returning home to you for our anniversary clouded my judgment. I could only think of you.”

Each practiced touch upon your flushed skin sent another wave of liquid heat to your core, your muscles loosening and tightening in turn as you sought your pleasure with each roll of your hips into his hand. His own arousal pressed against your lower back, hot and heavy and grinding slowly against you in rhythm with the curl of his fingers.

“Of your body.” He licked a stripe from your shoulder to your jaw. “Writhing beneath mine.” His hand left your breast to splay his hand across your lower belly, pressing you into his erection. “My name on your lips as I bring you to the brink of ecstasy again and again. Think about it,” he purred, finding that spot inside of you that made the edges of your vision go white with pleasure, unraveling the last of your flimsy resolve.

You twisted in his embrace, ripping off your t-shirt before wrapping your arms around his neck. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear another word from your mouth,” you hissed, just before crashing your mouth against his.

His quiet laughter turned into a groan you swallowed greedily, the kiss a fierce meeting of lips and teeth and tongue born of desperation and fueled by the fire he had stoked to life within your core. He tasted of coffee, bitter and sweet, and that indescribable flavor that was just _Tom_ that you craved more than air at that moment. Your hands tangled in his auburn locks, grown out so it curled at the ends, holding him just where you needed for your exploration of his mouth.

“Eager, are you?” he asked, panting against your skin as he lowered you to the bed, his hands curling around your ribcage.

In the soft light, he was a vision with kiss-swollen lips and glittering eyes with pupils blown as he gazed down at you stretched out before him. Your hand reached out, palming him through his underwear. You reveled in the sight of his head falling back and eyes closing at the intimate gesture, his mouth falling open to let out a breathy sigh that curled in the air between you, making goosebumps crawl over your skin.

Power rushed through you, heady and intense, as you stroked the length of him through the restrictive fabric. It was _you_ who was making him lose control in your hands, his fists clutching onto the rumpled sheets as he groaned out his desire into the quiet flat.

With a growl, he suddenly shoved your hand away from him, shifting on the bed to pull off first his underwear and then yours, tossing them to the corner of the room. He sat with his back against the headboard, tugging you up into his lap with his hands around your wrists. Your knees settled on either side of his waist, and he guided you down onto him slowly, drawing out a soft sigh from you both once he was fully inside of you.

“Oh, I missed you,” he whispered reverently, gasping the words out against your neck as his arms wrapped around your back to press your chests together.

He stretched you pleasantly, sating a need deep within you that only he could reach. No amount of phone calls or text messages would replicate this feeling, of his heart racing against yours or his hands clutching at your back desperately. The releases you had found with your own fingers couldn’t replicate the scent of your combined arousal, thick in the air and your name uttered like a prayer from his lips. Your hips found an easy pace over him, each gyration rubbing his pelvis against the hardened bundle of nerves at the Apex of your thighs and making his breath hitch in his throat.

Soon enough, his hands found their place at your hips, holding you steady as he thrust hard and fast into you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your mouth anchored itself to his throat as he brought you closer and closer to the peak of your ecstasy. The delightful rasp of his chest hair against your sensitive nipples only added to the inferno raging inside of you, and the sound of your name on his lips was what sent you over the edge.

You cried out against his sweat-dampened skin, your nails digging into him as your entire body spasmed around him in time with the flashes of light sparking behind your clenched eyelids. Your release triggered his own, and he slammed into you once, twice, three times before stilling within you.

Melting into him, you lifted your head, resting your forehead against his as you came down from the incredible high of your shared orgasm. His touch was soothing, light, his fingertips tracing the dip of your spine over and over again. The kiss he bestowed upon you was languid, full to the brim with adoration and tenderness that made your drumming heart clench in your chest.

“Happy anniversary,” he cooed, smoothing a tendril of hair away from your forehead, caressing your cheek as he did so.

You pecked a light kiss to his nose before climbing off of him, relishing in the familiar ache in your thighs as you collapsed onto the bed beside him. You patted his thigh. “Happy anniversary. Now go let Bobby in.”

His answering groan was not one of pleasure this time, but dread. He quickly straddled your hips, tickling your sides until your laughter echoed about the room. “But I am not yet finished with you, sweetheart!”

Bobby would be okay in the garden for a little while longer.


End file.
